Murmur
by igirisexual
Summary: Canada is a quiet nation, and England comes to notice it. Perhaps one day Canada will be able to murmur out that damned 'I love you'. For now, just smiles and conversation is enough. UKCan. Canonverse.


"Dude, you gotta speak up." He was always so loud.

"I sai-"

"Canada, please." This one wasn't _always_, but was a feisty man who could scream every word were he in an argument.

Canada sighed and just looked down. "I said I agree with England," he mumbled, self-conscious again as the two audacious nations stared at him.

"Oh, see, he agrees with _me_!" laughed England, practically starting a wrestling match with America right then and there.

"But he's Canadian, who gives a shit about his opinion!" America laughed obnoxiously and tried to punch England in the balls. Another typical day, Canada supposed.

The meeting drew to a close before too long, and he packed up his things. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he said quietly, doubting anyone heard him. He supposed that Italy might have, as they were sitting close together, but he would never think England would have. He had his mind on more important things. Like America. America was always the better of the brothers, wasn't he? The one in the spotlight, the one giving a good show. Canada had a tendency of fading into the background. These meetings dragged on for about a week in each location, and it was absolutely monotonous to have to return to the same place every day for a whole week.

"What did you say?"

England's voice caught Canada off guard, and the younger nation turned. "Were you talking to me?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Erm, yes," England nodded, creasing his brow. "You said something and it was really quiet. I didn't hear you. Mind repeating it for me?"

"I just said goodbye," he mumbled, rubbing his arm. "You probably have other things to attend to, so goodnight, eh."

"I actually don't have a thing on," he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and walking a little bit past Canada. He then turned, and tilted his head. "Are you coming?"

"Aah.. Ah, yes, I am-" Canada stammered, turning around and walking alongside the shorter man. "So, now the meeting's over, where are you going, Arthur?" He asked quietly, using his human name as it was polite to do so outside of actual meetings and whatnot.

"I just said I have nothing on," he scoffed. Matthew bent over a bit in embarrassment. Right. He'd just learned that.

"Sorry," he puffed quietly. "Well, we could go to the little coffee house down the road-.. Ah.. You don't like coffee, do you?"

"I'm sure they'll have some food worth eating," Arthur shrugged.

Matthew began to worry a bit now. Did Arthur have him mistaken for his brother? Did he think he was off to the coffeeshop with Alfred? "Er, you do know I'm Matthew, right?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes way from the Brit.

"Mm?" he raised a thick brow. "Don't be daft. Of course I do. That _is_ why I'm accompanying you."

"Oh," he said, trailing off a bit and mumbling something unintelligible.

"Do speak up, lad," Arthur encouraged.

"I said thank you," he uttered quietly as they left the meeting building and started down the street. "Sometimes I think you don't even acknowledge me."

"I can't hear you half of the time," Arthur sighed, putting a hand to Matthew's shoulder and causing the Canadian to jump. "Er, sorry," he said, dropping his hand. "I do try to listen, though. It's just your idiotic brother has a voice like a foghorn, while yours is a whisper."

"So you're trying to listen to me?" Matthew asked, unable to hold back a smile. What a new and pleasant development. "I appreciate that very much."

"It's just that you mumble a lot and I can rarely pick up much more than a murmur," Arthur shrugged, opening the door to the coffeehouse. Matthew sighed and followed him in.

He frowned. "Well, it's just how my voice is, I suppose. My brother always wants to be heard." Arthur sat down with him in one of the booths, and ordered them both some cake, and a coffee for Matthew. Arthur got an iced tea.

"I prefer your voice to Alfred's, actually," Arthur shrugged. "You're also not an immature brat like he is."

"Oh," Matthew chuckled quietly, resting his chin in his palm. "Thank you. I've always thought your voice is the nicest."

"Oh," echoed Arthur, pale cheeks turning a little pink. He coughed and practically sank into his iced tea when it arrived. "W-well, I think your voice is lovely, and perhaps I will need to sit closer to you so I can hear it better."

"I'll try to speak above a murmur for you," Matthew hummed, lifting his coffee cup to hide a tiny smile.


End file.
